A Dance of Roses and Dragons
by CommisarChipmunk
Summary: A fanfic based around an ASOIAF RPG that my friends and I ran. Rating is for violence and maybe a little lemony goodness later on. I hope you all enjoy this drama filled fight for the throne set during the Blackfyre Rebellion. Please note there are no cannon characters in this work, but all the same Westerosi fun will be there.
1. Chapter 1: A Fateful Meeting

Chapter 1: The Fateful Meeting

As the sun crests the Red Mountains its light shines down over the swaying grasses and calm meadows in long tendrils. Over the farms to the forests and plains it advances until it hits the walls of a grand, wooden structure. Its weathered sides bear the crest of House Briar of the Reach.

Their ancestral home, Rose Hall.

Among the first to notice the inexorable change from night to day is Lady Myria Briar, who as it happened had not slept the night before. Today was an important day for the woman, her wedding. Though this was not what was on her mind, in fact she hardly knew the man she was betrothed to, and at nearly thirty she had no desire to tie herself to anyone her lord brother chose for her. As the sun's rays creep across her ceiling, she knew there was no point in pretending to sleep any longer. Rising from her bed with a heavy sigh Myria moved first to her chair to slip a robe over her cotton shift only to step outside onto her balcony overlooking the courtyard. While she normally enjoyed her morning tea out here with nothing but the birds to disturb her it was far too late for that this morning. From her perch she could already see servants bustling about, but before any could be identified a glint of sunlight catches her eye. There in the courtyard, speaking to some of the guards that were to hold the gate while the ceremony took place, stood a tall, rigid figure clad in an ornate suit of plate armor. In fact, had it not been for the wind picking up and stirring the all too familiar silver blonde hair atop the figure she would have thought he was just one of the myriad statues that lined the corridors of their home. Though she didn't actually have children of her own, Rodrik Flowers was as close to a son as she could ever want. Brought to Rose Hall as an infant under the ruse of being her lord-brother's bastard, only she and one other soul knew the truth. It was she who had saved the toddler from the river, and she who had protected him from the ire of her abusive sibling Lord Thermos. Looking down upon the scene unfolding below she couldn't help but smile down at him, the moment bittersweet as she thought to what pain both of their futures might hold.

Feeling eyes upon him Rodrik would turn towards where he felt the gaze, and almost as if on instinct look up to where he knew his mother's room was, more than used to her watching the calveries early morning drills. Thanks to the rising sun all he could see was a shape of a person, to small to be anyone but the room's normal occupant. With a huge smile he would bow in greeting with the knowledge she would have seen and then turn back to his men, all traces of the compassion he held a moment ago gone.

"I want no soul to come through that gate without their invitation, am I understood? Nothing is to ruin this for Lady Myria," Rodrik said looking over the assembled men.

"Aye Lord!" They salute as one to their commander. As they take up their positions at the gate with the expertise expected of soldiers of House Briar, Rodrik watches from his vantage. Even his exacting eye finds no fault in their drill and at last he nods in satisfaction.

Sighing to himself Rodrik makes his way up onto wall over the gatehouse and looks over the surrounding area. 'This morning has gone better than expected, in all honesty', he thought to himself. He had woken before dawn and had gotten dressed in his armor and weapons before heading down to the kitchens. Breakfast had been a silent affair of Porridge and tea that he had created himself which allowed him to think on what had to be accomplished today. After breakfast he had gone and trained until an hour before dawn, and then after training he had rallied the full force of House Briar and posted them all over the Hall. There would be no disturbances today and the soldiers were on high alert due to their sworn enemies, the Ravenholts, arriving soon to attend the wedding. As far back as he could read in the books of the library no one truly remembers the reason the feud with the Ravenholts started, but many attribute it to a rumor about House Briar stealing Rosecutter, his family's ancestral sword, from the grasp of one of the Lord Ravenholts hands during a war long ago. From then on the two families had been at each other's throats and the conflicts between them had steadily escalated until the Paramounts of the Reach and Stormlands had to intervene. Hostages were exchanged and one of their own, Emma Briar, was sent to the Ravenholts while Arabel Ravenholt came to them. It was no thanks to that exchange the two houses were always on the brink of open war but not outright neither wanting the scorn that would come with killing an innocent. This changed when his Lord Father Thermos Briar decided to bury the past. He called the Ravenholts to the wedding so that peace may achieved between the two or at least so he said. One could never tell with Thermos until he had shown his hand. Perhaps that was why the normally stoic commander couldn't hide the anxiety that came with council meetings with the man, then again, the years of abuse likely hadn't helped anything. Wrapped up in his thoughts he did not notice the soft footsteps coming behind him until the shadow of the figure crossed over the wall in front of him, and the man took his place by the commander's side. Looking over at the person Rodrik's eyes widened in surprise at the man standing next to him. Standing only a few inches shorter than Rodrik the man was unbowed and unbroken by age. A full head of salt and pepper hair connecting to a full beard that held two twinkling eyes filled with amusement as he looked upon Rodrik. This man was the master of arms before Rodrik took the title nearly a month ago following his predecessor's failing health, and the man who he considered his father, one half of the duo that made him who he was. Giving a quick bow to the man "Master of arms Lorgan, it is good to see you but I thought you would still be in bed at a time like this. The wedding is not until tonight and you are needed with your son." It was true at least, as Master Lorgan had been sick for quite a long time now. Combined with his advanced age and the unknown disease that had been ravaging his body he had been confined to more and more bed rest over the months. Yet Lorgan was all smiles, waving off his adoptive sons concern "Rodrik how many times must I tell you to call me father when Thermos isn't nearby? Besides I came out here to breathe some of the fresh air our beautiful home provides us. It does me some good to at least wander outside and not stay cooped up inside of my room like an invalid" he'd announce, deep voice still carrying the pride of his many years and the pain of the battles he'd faced. "I believe it is every time, father. That does not take away from my second point that you should be with Carth. I'll be fine, you did teach me everything I know, so I think I can at least handle security of a wedding" Rodrik would retort, prompting a sorrowful look from the older man. Placing one hand upon his hand upon his shoulder, Rodrik instantly recognized the gesture to mean there was a lecture coming and he'd best not ignore it.

"I cannot neglect one son in favor of another. You are my boy as much as Carth is, and if not by blood then by the grace of The Seven for putting you in my life. Carth is handling things fine without me thanks to his overseas fashion lessons. Before this wedding was even announced it had been at least six years since I'd last seen him anyways, the crazy boy off trying to learn swordsmanship from one of those fools in Essos. At least I can live the rest of my days knowing Myria will make a man out of him. It's the son that's been made a man a hundred times over I worry for. Truly you can't mean to stay alone the rest of your life, Rodrik. You're turning twenty four this harvest, aren't you worried you'll be struck down in battle before you have a son of your own?"

There it was. The ugly truth that even Myria had been bringing up more and more. It had been years since he'd even visited a brothel and to be honest he wished his heart hadn't stopped him from going if only to portray to others that he was still a happy bachelor and keep his parents off his back. Even then, he knew better than to assume their nagging was out of a desire for grandchildren, if that were so they would have already set him up with someone they liked. Even the fact that the normally hands off Lorgan was getting involved seemed suspicious to him. Yet he knew they were right, and all he could do was sigh again and look out towards the now illuminated northern hills.

"Yes father I know, I feel the loneliness everyday. Yet how do I not chastise myself for how selfish it would be of me? To make a woman mine and pledge my love to her only to die in battle before the birth of a son is nothing short of cruel. While we aren't at war with Dorne or the Ravenholts you know first hand just how bloody the altercations can be if we catch them raiding parts of our lands. Besides, was it not you who encouraged me to never marry unless I loved a girl? So many women catch my eye, but none have ever called to my heart and I don't intend to lie just to create a new generation. Even then, I can't say I've been looking. Things just don't feel right around here. It's like The Seven keep whispering to me that everything will be changing soon. I am not sure if it is good or bad but I just can't shake the feeling that it is going to happen tonight. I feel it in my gut and now the air itself it seems to have baited breath. I doubled the guards just to put myself at ease."

An ease that was erased with the frail pat to his back that followed "Well if things are to change then I am glad I have left the house in your hands then. Who knows, maybe The Seven will see fit to send you a wife and that's what all of this is about. I am proud to have you as my so-" Lorgan would begin before he was cut off by a coughing fit and the once proud and strong man would start to double over. Shocked Rodrik would catch him and put his arm around his shoulder, starting to walk him back towards the room. "Come on father let's get you back inside and back to helping Carth get ready for the wedding. I will join you once all the guests have arrived." He will say as they walk inside the Hall, the wind picking up just as soon as they had stepped through the doors.

Later that afternoon, just as the sun was beginning to turn west and descend, the chattering of two women could be heard from one of the upper rooms of the hall, peaking the interest of a little sparrow who decided to call their open window it's new perch. On the bed sat a rather cross looking young lady, brown hair hanging to her shoulders in a loose braid with white flowers twisted throughout, a chestplate fitted over her body. "Evelyn Briar you cannot wear armor to your aunt's wedding and that is final", chirped a voice from within a wardrobe and suddenly a pale orange gown would land on the bed in front of her. With a scoff Evelyn would reply, "Well I'm not wearing a dress that's for sure! I'm more comfortable in my armor and besides, Rodrik gets to wear his!"

"That's because Rodrik's is the sentinel, his position demands it and Thermos would rather die before letting him be seen at the wedding. You are a lady, now grow up and act like it!" the wardrobe voice growled as she tossed the corset and stockings she had grabbed right at Evelyn's face. As she stepped out of the wardrobe in a mass of light pink fabric, Arabel Ravenholt cursed whoever had come up the invention of the corset to begin with as hers was killing her thanks to all of the bending that she had to do just to find a pair of matching stockings for the other almost twenty year old. With a huff, Evelyn would finally comply and move behind the dressing curtain and start to remove her armor if the clangs against the floor were any indication. Straightening herself out, Arabel had to step over to a mirror in order to ensure each strand of her nearly waist length dark blonde hair had stayed pinned up after all of that. However no sooner had she finished her check did someone decide now was the perfect time to knock at the door. Without wasting a moment she gestured for a serving girl to open the heavy oak just to be greeted with the main part of Evelyn's argument. There, in his freshly buffed armor and damp hair was all six feet and four inches of none other than the sentinel. With a smile, the Ravenholt girl would stand and practically glide over to the man she considered to be her brother. "Hello Rodrik, you needed something?" she'd ask. Looking more sheepish than she'd ever seen him, Rodrik would just twiddle his thumbs and examine the toes of his boots, a red creeping over his cheeks. "I.. I want to know if you could… Well see I just need… I.. I need help." he'd admit, the frustration in his voice more than obvious and now revealing itself to be the source of his inability to get out a clear thought. "Thermos has ordered me to attend the feasting portion of the wedding and made it clear I was to show up looking like a Briar, though you can imagine the words he used instead." he'd finish.

With a chuckle Arabel would just rise to her tiptoes, ruffle the mop of blonde hair in question and pull him back out into the hall, already anticipating his needs. She had no idea why her two closest friends seemed unable to grasp the finer points of court fashion, but she couldn't be too cross at them for giving her a purpose other than her growing poison business. "There there.. We'll have it fixed in no time you poor hopeless man you." She'd tease as she nudged open his door and headed straight for the wardrobe she'd stocked just last year. Met with the clanging of armor once again, she simply set to work shuffling through the well organized bits of fabric, glad that at least one of her fashion pupils hadn't messed up her hard work. "Why does Thermos want you at the feast?" She'd call over her shoulder, trying to pick between colors for now. "Probably to humiliate me. That or to remind your father of who has been beating back all of his men whenever they try to raid our borderlands. Have you heard word about if they plan on giving Emma back to us now that you're of age?" With a rueful chuckle Arabel turned with what she had finally chosen for him, a light colored pant with a much darker navy colored shirt. Tossing the garments over top of folding curtain that separated the two of them she'd call back to him. "Even swallowing his pride enough to come to this wedding is enough to humiliate my father. Though no, I haven't heard anything. My father only writes to me when he needs something done, so most of the time I just ignore the letters and carry on with my life." After a few moments a very bare chested sentinel would reemerge, blinking a few times as he unfolded the doublet and tunic he was to put on. "Needs something done? I assume you mean needs a poison made and pretend part of me didn't just hear a security threat to our house." he'd tease, the soft smile on his face enough to assure her he didn't really believe she was of any harm. Though as he turned to face a dressing mirror she had to admit, her train of thought turned from the pain that was her family, to the rather enjoyable view of their very toned sentinel the mirror afforded her. Though she was certain someone had considered pairing the two, her interest in the Sentinel went no further than enjoying the shirtless morning training he and the twin cavalry captains held on lazy weekends. Her plans for herself extended far beyond the Reach, and though she did love the sentinel as she loved the rest of her host siblings, she knew that the piece of land on the edge of the Briar's territory he'd been given when he was made a knight was the only thing he could offer her. Besides, who really needed a man to meddle in the affairs of a woman like her? She handled her own finances, had her own thriving business, and knew a husband would only stop both of those in their tracks just to preserve his own ego. So even though she knew she would have enjoyed much more than looking at the rippling muscles in some knight's back, she had decided long ago men simply weren't worth the trouble. Though through her quick evaluation she missed Evelyn's heels clicking into the room her arms out for them both to examine the offending sunset colored dress. Arabel quickly closed the doors on Rodrik's wardrobe, flashing the Briar a smile. "Yes! It's perfect. And would you look at that? You aren't dead!" she'd rub in, enjoying the way Evelyn smiled at how she looked despite not enjoying the dress. Immediately after however she would turn back to now fully dressed Rodrik and set him down in a chair so she could fix the silvery strands of hair that were still a mess on top of his head. "You'll need to fix this after you get out of your armor later, now behave and try not to mess it up before the ceremony." she'd warn, finishing her task in no time and dragging Evelyn back to her own room to finish with hair and makeup.

Yet Rodrik still had work to do, and so he found himself once again in front of the gates and back in his armor with the proper clothing underneath. The Ravenholts were due to arrive at any moment and he had to be the one to greet them. Bread and salt had to be offered as well as giving assurances that they would not be held longer than they wished to stay. It was unfortunate that Thermos could not be there to greet them but he and Corwyn the Castellan were deep in talks on how to approach the Ravenholts about the peace treaty that would be discussed on the marrow. All the political talk went right over his head and as such he was ordered to stay here to welcome any all visitors. It was tedious and unfulfilling as most of the guests when met by him wore strained smile at being greeted by anyone but a servant that would wait on their every need. To make matters worse the Ravenholts were late and the wedding was expected to start within the hour, and he knew people were already stalling to buy the offending party more time. "Damn Ravenholts not even accepting an olive branch" he'd say spitting at the ground and preparing to walk away until he heard the bark of a dog coming from the open gateway. Curious he turned back to face the gate and that's when he saw a short cloaked figure with both a longbow and a hunting bow visible on their back. The guards had stopped the person with swords on their hips. "Do you have an invitation?" The one on the left would say, their sword edging closer to the figure his men taking caution given the weapons this stranger carried. "I do not have an invitation, I wasn't.. I didn't.. Nobody told me I needed one. I… I came to offer my services to House Briar." the figure would explain, their voice clearly carrying the higher pitched tones that identified them as a woman. Even so, the trepidation in their voice was almost instantly picked up by the second guard, who would scoff at her in response "And why would our house take someone like you huh? I bet you're just some peasant wannabe who doesn't have the skill to even fight!" As the back and forth continued, the sentinel witnessing the scene was first glad that they were following his orders but as the man continued to berate her something inside Rodrik screamed at him to go over to them. As he stepped forward the wind itself started blowing in that direction as if urging him forward, the howling of the gale whispering for him to keep going. As he walked up his heavy footfalls made the man pause in his rant and explain, "Sir I was just telling this vagabond that she was not welcome here without her invitation." Yet Rodrik would walk right past them and hold his hand out for the man to stop his explanation. "That's enough Gerald I'll take it from here. Both of you back to your posts the Ravenholts may still arrive and we need men to meet the party." Looking at each other then back at their commander they would nod and go back to guarding the outside of the gate while he continued on into the grass. Until finally she was close enough to touch, her hood still in place over her head and obscuring her features from clear view.

As the wind died down it left Rodrik alone with the stranger and the silence that hung between them, a silence that carried on until the figured whistled and from over the hill came a rather large black and white spotted dog, presumably the one that had barked moments before. As the animal padded up to what he assumed was its owner and sat by her side he would finally speak. "Show yourself. Remove your cloak", he'd command, knowing that though his tone was harsh it would carry the unspoken threat that he was not to be disobeyed. Indeed, she began to comply, arms being revealed first, but only so her hands could grasp the clasp securing the fabric over her body and undo it with one deft motion. As he'd previously assumed she was a woman if her voice already hadn't revealed her, he would have had no trouble guessing her gender thanks to the rather shapely curves the part of him that hadn't been made a monk spotted neigh instantly. Though what stood out the most to his military mind was the longbow that now rested on the ground with her cloak and just how small it's wielder was compared to the men he normally had using one. Granted he was not a small man, but compared to him this woman was tiny, the top of her head only barely reaching over the tops of his shoulders. The second most noticeable thing about her was the ringlets of copper colored curls that framed her face and offset the few freckles that looked as if they had been dusted across her nose. It was only then that he noticed that even though she didn't wear any jewels, this woman had been made in shades of the most precious materials he could think of, as her eyes were the most beautiful stormy grey color he had seen in his life and her skin put ivory to shame. However it was not her beauty that drew his curiosity the most, it was the bruises and cuts that his trained eye managed to pick out, some looking fresh while others had the signs of being purple and nearly healed. The cloak and dress she was wearing only added to the mystery he was trying to solve, as they certainly were high above the price point of a peasant, and that wasn't even adding in that she seemed to have two bows and a short sword. He might not have known who she was, but it was clear she was a bit more than just an average peasant. Looking her over her would stare at her, not realizing that he didn't want to stop looking at her until his brain reminded him to blink. "What has brought you here to House Briar, my lady?" He would ask as his eyes scanned the area as well, ensuring this was not a trap he had unwittingly walked in to. "My name is Clara Flowers and I am here to offer my services to the house my lord. I… Well.. I am just a Flowers but I can shoot a bow and I just wish to serve a noble and honorable house." She would say in a rush as she knelt in front of him, the dog following suit and laying itself on the grass. Contented with the investigation of the surrounding land he was certain she was alone, and so his mind turned instead to the conflict he faced. To accept her meant talking to Thermos and facing his ire of having yet another noble bastard under his banner, and to make matters worse he wasn't sure what family she even came from. He was more than a little tempted to send her away but her bruises reminded him of all the times Thermos beat him instead of his siblings or Arabel when he was in one of his rages. It reminded him of how much he wanted to do what she had done, escape. Finally making up his mind it was with a sad smile at what he knew would come for him tomorrow that he would reach down and offer his hand to her. "Well Clara it seems to be your lucky day. I have a spot in my forces that has recently opened up and I would like for you to have it should your skill prove to be worthy of it." To her credit, she looked more than shocked as her trembling hand slipped into his own and she got back to her feet. "O-Of course Ser I would be honored if you would have me, so would Pepper the Shameless." he'd hear, and before he could question the dog's strange title, the beast would explain it for him, happily rubbing against his leg and trying to worm her way under his hand for a pet. With a laugh he'd relent and give poor Pepper a good scratch behind the ears as he motioned them towards the barracks. "I still have some people to meet but I shall be with you shortly. Tell the servants that I sent you to take Willin's room and they shall have everything prepared" he'd explain, giving her a gentle push in the right direction. As he watched her head off, he didn't seem to notice the wind had vanished along with her, or the fact that in its absence the air around him had only grown tenser.


	2. Chapter 2: The Wedding

Chapter 2: The Wedding

Nestled away in the southernmost edge of the Seven Kingdoms, bordering the lands of Dorne and surrounded by mountains and sprawling grasslands, Rose Hall was a bustle of music and feasting. Thankfully the wedding was going off without a hitch, the feast well underway and people dancing about the great hall, three of the Ravenholts and their guards had arrived and settled in without creating too much of a fuss, and Myria and Carth were married. Even though Lady Myria had been dreading being married, and even then still wasn't too keen on her new husband and his ostentatious ways, she was overjoyed to see everyone having a good time and her son looking as handsome as ever. It had been a bit windy earlier that afternoon and the cooks had perhaps had one too many dishes with onions in them, but it was as perfect a wedding as her situation would allow her. With one last happy sigh she took a sip of her wine and leaned back into her chair, content for the time being. However just as her new husband vanished to go talk to some stranger she could over hear her brother beginning the negotiations with the Ravenholts and had a sinking feeling that this wasn't going to end well. Their darling Emma was already hostage in their hands and with Arabel being of age to marry there was nothing holding her to them. Any attempts at negotiation were going to be useless once Lord Ravenholt put two and two together and realized the power that he held. Which with the help of his remaining two children wouldn't take long. Though she certainly had some underhanded ideas on how to fix it all and get Emma back to them without losing her other adopted child, Arabel, she doubted her brother or her usual plotting partner Corwyn would be very receptive to either.

After casting one last sideways glance to the trail of colorful ribbons that followed behind her new husband Carth, she would turn and motion their ward over to her and finally give the conversation between the two lords her full attention. "Now then Lord Ravenholt I believe it is time to get down to the real business now that all we are doing is drinking." Thermos said before steepling his fingers and regarding the figure across the table. The man sitting in front of him looked more like a general then a leader of a house, given that even at a wedding he was in full plate armor and carried a greatsword on his back. Like his daughter, he still had a mane of dark blonde hair hanging about his shoulders, but the full beard extending from his jaw line had begun to turn grey and show his age. Within his dark eyes she saw fire and strength, but a weariness of blood that all great fighters eventually gained, a weariness she could even see beginning in Rodrik. In all Lord Irack Ravenholt was a large man who bore many scars of his battles, and seemed proud of every last one. He was a man she thought even she would have a hard time negotiating with, let alone her haughty brother. Glaring across the table Lord Ravenholt would set down his ale, "Oh? What Thermos, you want your daughter back is that it? What could you possibly offer me in return? My daughter? It's a shame I don't want her. No, our deal will stand as is." he'd grumble returning to his food with a look that would have made most men fear to speak for days. Yet Myria could swear she saw her brother twitch a little at the man's response, likely from the use of his first name. It was something he had always hated, but what scared her is how quickly his displeased expression would turn into a positively cruel smile. "Well you see Irack, that's what I was hoping to discuss. You don't want your daughter, and I don't want my second son. Tell me, your second daughter Kearen is recently widowed again is she not? I feel a marriage would strengthen our peace deal more than two unwanted daughters. We can give the useless ones back at their wedding".

With those words she felt her heart stop, her world going silent save for the Lord Ravenholt's obscenely loud laughter. It wasn't a marriage arrangement, it was a plan to kill Rodrik. Everybody knew Kearen Ravenholt for her many marriages, but even more so for the name she'd claimed for herself, The Black Widow. Every man who claimed her hand befell some horrible fate be it hunting accident, battle wounds, or sudden illness. Pushing her chair back she would look over just in time to see Rodrik's sorrowful face fade into uncaring and him turn away with two glasses of wine. Time and time again she had sworn she'd fight to let him marry for love, her own first marriage to a Crownland knight being miserable and loveless. Seeing her adopted son like that made her want to hop over the table and run after him, but as she watched his turned back disappear into the crowd she could hear Lord Ravenholt rumbling, "Draw up the contract.. I'll be back in a fortnight to sign it with the girl". Sharing a glance with Corwyn, their Master of Ravens she only needed to see him nod before she knew what was needed. Rodrik was too important to pass off like this. Whether he knew it or not he was their ticket to the throne, the key to overthrowing the Targaryen dynasty, the reason she bothered to return to her brother. They would have to warn Rodrik, have to tell him of his parents before this disastrous deal could occur. Seeing her chance as Carth moved further across the room, she would rise from her chair and pick up a half empty wine glass. "Would you look at that brother, I'm out of wine already. I think I'll take a stroll around the gardens to clear my head.. Perhaps Carth will want to come as well", she'd say as she glided off to avoid their protests.

Immediately she would make her way out the doors of the great hall to walk among the pure yellow roses the hall was famous for. It was no mystery where the Sentinel had gone as the front door was being manned by his own men who were under orders not to let anyone in or out, even him. As she stepped into the air she could make out the armor of a guard simply staring ahead. As she drew closer the man would bow to her, "He is just beyond the arch ma'am" the guard would sound off, knowing who she was after on instinct. As she stepped past to go find him she would think back to all the times she had done the same thing when he was small, always counting on the guards to know where he had hid. Rounding the corner she would spot the Sentinel, downing both glasses of wine and rubbing his temples. Yet upon hearing the crunch of her footsteps Rodrik would stand up quickly and straighten his posture before he turned towards her. "Lady Briar what are you doing out here? I thought you would be inside enjoying the party.." he'd mutter, keeping his eyes to the ground as she walked up and hooked a finger under his chin. "Rodrik Myrin Flowers look at me, and for the love of the Seven, don't call me Lady Briar" she'd chide. She could see the pain cross his features as he began looking around, but in the end he would bend down and hug her tight. "Muña.. What did I do wrong? I thought I hadn't angered him recently. Why me? You know what that witch did to her last four husbands.. I thought for once I could be happy", he'd whisper, hints of acceptance creeping into his tone. Hugging her son closer to her the woman would smile softly at his use of Valyrian. His mother had been a close friend and she had sworn she would teach him the language despite not knowing it herself. Keeping it even more hidden she had told him it was only a very old form of Dornish, hoping he never got the urge to discuss it. As she let her face rest on the cool metal of his shoulder guard she couldn't help but think back to the day she had bought him his first set of armor, how much he had grown since then, and how much it was going to hurt when she had to say goodbye and push him towards his own fate. "Rodrik listen to me, I know what he is doing is evil and you did nothing to anger him. I will do everything in my power to make you happy, and I promise I will find a way to break this marriage contract", she'd comfort, running a hand up and down his arm. However just as he was about to open his mouth to respond they would both hear a loud screaming coming from the great hall and then the absolute pandemonium as everyone started rushing off and things were knocked about. Pushing her behind him he will order the two guards who were guarding the arch to stay with his mother, and it was all Myria could do not to scream the truth as he ran.

Watching from the shadows of the stables, an aging gentleman known only as Karamore watched as people ran everywhere trying to get out of the hall. From across the yard he'd see their new girl, Clara, step from the guard barracks at the sound of screaming just in time to see two masked men running into the darkness and straight for the gate with someone between them. He'd introduced himself to the new archer not long after she'd arrived, absolutely despising when he didn't know the people in their keep. With a smirk he reveled in the idea that he'd get to see her skills before her new captain, but also in the fact she made a perfect distraction from the fact he had opened the gate against orders. As her dog Pepper, a charming beast really, barked at her leg beside her she would draw her bow and notch an arrow, tracking the man closest to her before letting it fly and taking the man to the ground, holding his knee in pain. Yet just as she notched the other arrow she would be tackled to the ground by one of the guardsman, Pepper growling and nipping at the metal of his armor the entire time. Running out into the courtyard Rodrik would start motioning to the guards who would start taking their positions without further instructions. While they rushed the rider with their halberds, another group set up in the gatehouse bracing their weapons against the running horse. Not paying them any heed for the moment Karamore would open the gate for Rodrik's giant black destrier, and their daring Sentinel would grab Jead'en and hop on, not caring that he was bareback. With everything out of his hands, Karamore would step back into the shadows and return to his books. As Rodrik raced towards the rider who was almost to the front gate he would see a single soldier step out of line, letting the rider past. His scream of rage was drowned out by a sound that pierced his heart, the scream of his little sister Emma coming from the front of the horse. Barely paying any heed to the trooper Rodrik's sword would come down in a flash cutting the man's chest as he rode past. "Faster Jeade'en!" He would yell out, and the giant black horse would snort it's breath in the cold night air making it look like the demon that it was named after. As a testament to the bond between animal and rider, they started to catch up with the other rider. However as he reached for the back of the man he would see him pull out a dagger and then would hear Emma scream even louder before he threw her from the horse and onto the rust colored earth. Pulling back on Jeade'en's mane he would hold on as the giant of a horse reared up and would stop, nearly causing him to slide off. As the horse settled he would jump off Jeade'en and would rush over to Emma, pulling the girl with her hands over her eyes into his arms. "Shhh.. Just hang on Em. I'll get you back home. Jaered will take care of you." he'd whisper to the screaming child as he re-mounted his horse wrapping his arms around her as they headed back to the gates of Rose Hall.

From their silent ride to the silence of the courtyard he assumed most of the damage had already been dealt with and most of the guests had been set free. Hurrying back into the castle he would dismount quickly as a stable hand lead his horse away. "Jaered I need you outside right now!" Rodrik would scream as he carried his sister towards the large front doors, only to be met by Myria still in her wedding dress holding out her arms. "Here. Give her to me. You're needed in the dungeons." she'd choke as she held Emma close to her and ran off towards the Maester's quarters. Rodrik would look worriedly after the two and then turn to walk off, his burst of adrenaline leaving him worn down. As he got closer he could hear the sounds of shouting from up the stairs, and the whimpering of a dog. Practically stomping up the stairs he would hear everything but the whimpering go silent, and as he rounded the corner he would see two of the cells occupied. In the first was a tall, lanky boy with dark brown hair and tanned skin, showing him to be of dornish origins. He was wearing all black, and had a black face mask hanging around his neck, and an arrow sticking out of his knee. He would simply glare at him before looking over to the second cell, seeing the archer woman from earlier, Clara, he thought her name was. Her red hair was a mess, and she was covered in more bruises and scrapes than he'd last seen her with. As he looked her over she would curl up into a tighter ball and hide her face, allowing him to notice that parts of her dress were ripped and torn off. As he walked over to one of his captains the giant black and white speckled hound would stand up and bark at him, spinning around and waiting for him to open the door to the cell. Sighing and needing a moment of peace he would relent and open the cell door just enough for the dog to run in and sit dutifully at her owner's side. "Tell me what happened" Rodrik would growl, looking back at the captain. "Near as we can tell Ser, this man was was a member of the crew who was stealing Lady Emma. The Archer shot him in the leg and was aiming again. We think she was an assassin who missed her first shot. Why else would she be ready to fire a second arrow?" he'd respond. Thinking back to the second man on the horse he was fairly certain who her other target was, and considering she made the trick shot to hit this one in the knee, she clearly knew where and where not to shoot to keep someone alive. With a groan Rodrik would point to the boy. "He matches the other one. Send him to the pit. I'll have Corwyn get the answers later", he'd grumble before turning to the woman in the cell. "As for you, wait in my solar. It's on the top floor and the only way out is down, so don't think about running." he'd growl pulling open the cage door and feeling a pang of guilt as she saw her first wince and then gently move past him and head up the stairs with the dog still at her heels. "As for the rest of you, crowd control. I don't want a single person to leave these grounds thinking we don't have this under control. Find the man among you with a cut across his chest, have him questioned for treason when all the guests are gone" he'd command as he turned and followed after the woman.

As he climbed the stone stairs he couldn't help but keep his mind off of her. Who was she and why had she shown up today of all days? He found himself drawn to her, but didn't quite understand why. All he knew was that he had wanted to talk to her all night and he was finally getting his wish. Sighing he'd open the door at the top into his office and step through the doors, walking over to the decanters on his desk almost out of habit. As he walked in he would see the tiny archer curled up by the window, staring out it and looking up at the stars, and if it hadn't been for the long gashes across her dress he would have imagined she was nothing more than a masterpiece hanging on the wall. Downing the first glass and then pouring another it would take more restraint than he'd used all night not to just keep drinking. Dragging a chair over towards the window, he'd fall into it and take a slow sip of his drink. "Now then ma'am will you please tell me who you are? As you probably could have guessed I am Rodrik Flowers the Master of Arms for the house as such all matters of protection fall to me." He would say before setting his desk and starting to remove his sword. While usually he was more cautious he didn't detect anything that might mark her a threat, the poor thing still shaking from whatever it was his men had put her through. Not moving the slightest bit the woman would respond with a simple whispered, "I.. I know who you are S-ser.. I'm Clara Catherine Flowers, disgrace of the Tarly's. I try to help where I can, but all I've seen to have done is make myself a target once more". At least getting a few of the answers he wanted, Rodrik would walk up next to her and offer her a hand. At first she would only stare at it, but after a moment she would extend a shaky hand for him to take and in only a few swift motions he had pulled her to her feet, taken off his. cloak, and wrapped it over her shoulders to try to give her some sense of comfort given her state. As they both took their respective seats again he'd feel them both relax again, but still couldn't help but inquire after just what his men had done on his behalf. "Did they do anything their mothers would be ashamed of, Lady Clara?", he'd ask being moderately assured when she shook her head without putting on a worse expression. "Look at me please, my predecessor always told me I could get the measure of someone by looking into their eyes" he'd request. Even though it took a moment he could see her head starting to tilt up, and when he finally met her eyes he felt his breath catch in his throat. Looking up at him were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, little flecks of blue lining her pupil and then fading back into a light grey that rivaled the color of the sea during a storm. In them he saw many things, the leftover wetness of un-shed tears, the red rimming showing that some tears had fallen, a sorrow that made even him ache, and a sense of fear he knew too well. However, on top of it all was a kindness that made him believe that if he asked she would give him the dress she was wearing so he would not be cold, and buried deep under it all was a stubborn pride that reminded him very much of himself.

He might be insane for what he was about to do, but after Martin passed away nearly two months ago the archers among his ranks had been getting big heads without a leader, and who better than a woman to put them in their place? That is, if she was even capable of the challenge Lorgan had made up to keep undesirables away from the position. With a gentle smile he would reach out and give her shoulder a squeeze before he'd gesture out the window and into the courtyard lit by the torches his men carried . "I think I got the answer I wanted, but I do have one last test for you. See the stables? Third stall from the left on the back wall there's a bag of apples. Rip open the bag and cause one to fall into the second stall and I might have a job for you." he'd say, taking a step back and pulling a long bow and an arrow off of the weapons rack in the corner. Handing it to her he would pat her back one last time and motion for her to do as he asked having a pretty good idea that it wouldn't be an easy task, even if she was the one who had shot their fugitive. Taking a breath the red-headed archer would steady herself with her back against the wall leading into the window before she lined up the shot, letting everything around them fall silent enough to let a fallen pin be heard before finally releasing her drawstring. Stepping back he would extend a hand for the bow and open his mouth to let her down gently on the news that though he'd accepted her as a soldier the failed test meant the position of captain would go unfilled today. It was just as he was hanging it on the wall he would hear a sound that both excited him and terrified him, the neighing of his horse. Not believing his ears at first he would rush back over to the window and sure enough there would be Jead'en with his head over his door happily crunching on an apple.

It couldn't be, this had to be some trick of the eye or interference on her part. Thermos was going to kill him for this, having a woman as a soldier was one thing, but taking a noble bastard of the Tarly's and making her his captain when he barely knew her would enrage Thermos more than anything else. "Unless he thought it was his idea", a little voice in the back of his mind would speak, and it was then he knew what was needed to keep the best archer he'd ever seen around. Keeping his word he would give off an impressed whistle as he turned to her, "Well then Clara Flowers welcome to House Briar's army as the new archer captain and my second in command. Meetings are right after breakfast in the planning room, Tilma will get you set up with new clothes. All that's left is for a little show for Lord Thermos tomorrow afternoon. Do you accept?" he'd ask. Then feeling the same voice that had gotten out of trouble rejoicing when he watched her nod and then bow, pledging herself to the house and to his service. Squashing the joy in his mind, he knew there was one last thing to ask before he could really let her stay. "I do have one last question though.. What happened to you? Before my men roughed you up that is", he'd ask gesturing to her bruises and cuts. As she looked away and starting stammering out some reply he was sure he wouldn't be able to piece together he would step back forward and press a finger to her lips. "Shhhh… It's alright. When you're ready. Just as long as a Tarly force stays far from my gates I don't need to know it, yet " he'd instruct, offering her his arm to the now wide eyed and panicked archer. "Come on. I'll show you to your room and to Tilma." Waiting until he felt her hand on his arm before leading her down the stairs and through halls until they got to the top floor of the main hall and found the ragged old woman with a bandana tied around her head. After a few words he would push open the door to the spare room next to his and show her in. "It's not much but it stays warm and you get the light from the sunset. So then.. Goodnight Captain." he'd comment, not waiting for a reply before stepping out, completely forgetting his cloak. Walking the short distance to his room Rodrik would sigh as he entered and would proceed to take off his armor. It wasn't that he didn't want to speak with her, in fact it was quite the opposite. When they got the chance to sit down after Thermos' test tomorrow he fully intended on learning everything there was to know about the very quiet archer. To learn her likes and dislikes and watch happier emotions fly across her face. Going to his bed he would would crawl into sighing contentedly as he brought the covers over himself. It had been a long and trying day but he knew that his family was safe and that he had a new captain as well to help him in managing the house. Smiling to himself Rodrik would start to fall asleep feeling that things might finally be looking up for his family.

It only felt as if it had been a second since he had dozed off before he felt himself being shaken awake. Opening his eyes and sitting upright he would be met with the tear stained face of Myria. "Rodrik honey? You need to come with me now.." she'd hush, pulling him out of bed in just his sleeping pants and handing him a shirt. "Muña ? What's going on. Are you hurt? Is Emma okay?" he'd ask, throwing the shirt on and following her out, with only silence, memory, and her candle to guide them. Eventually they would come to the medical bay and surrounding a bed was his entire family, only his father's miserable face missing. Even Emma, who now had a bandage around her right eye, was huddled up near the head of the bed. When he reached the group of people he would look over Arabel's shoulder and nearly break his mother's hand. Lying on the bed, with his eyes barely open and making a horrible choking noise was the man who had raised him, Lorgan. Forcing back tears he would move next to Emma, dropping to his knees and taking his hand as pale blue eyes stared into his own. "Rodrik.. My.. My Son. I am so…" Lorgan would begin, before having to stop and try to catch his breath again. "So.. pr-proud." he would finish before coughing would rattle his body. For the next hour, they all stood there on bated breaths, tears in everyone's eyes and people saying their last goodbye to the man they all loved from the bottom of their hearts. The man that had raised them where Thermos didn't, had taught them to fight, had taught them about honor, and most of all had loved them in return. The sun was just starting to lighten the dark blue of the sky, when surrounded by his family Lorgan drew his last wheezing breath, and passed on. As Emma clung to his side and squeezed him tight he would lift her up into his arms and slowly rock her from side to side, trying to hold back his own tears. I'm.. I'm going to take Emma to her room.. I'll tell someone to start building a pyre." he'd whisper, kissing his mother on the cheek and carrying his sister out. Halfway to her room he could feel Emma nod off, her head on his shoulder and her arms hanging limp around his neck. As he tucked her into bed and turned to leave he would run into a large black and white dog whimpering at him, Pepper if he remembered her name correctly. He didn't know where she'd been when he'd stolen her owner away, but he was glad she was here now. Taking her back to his room where nobody would see, he would fall to his knees and sob against her coat, the dog sitting perfectly still the entire time only occasionally licking his cheek. Eventually he would fall asleep against his door, Pepper curled up beside him. Thankfully she was still beside him that afternoon when Thermos accepted his archer without a test of his own. Even more than that, she stayed licking his palm as he lit the pyre to send his adopted father on to the next life.


	3. Chapter 3: A Feeling Realized

As the sun was just beginning to set and a frigid gale rushed over the walls of Rose Hall, the chattering of men could be heard as they left the range and headed back to the barracks. Finally as the quiet settled back over the red earth, the tell tale "thunk" of an arrow hitting a target broke the silence. Once again the wind would pick up, whipping around a solitary woman and stirring her rust colored curls that matched the dust around them. While it wasn't unusual for the new archer captain to stay training after she'd dismissed her men, the present conditions were hardly suited for archery. While normally four or five archers would stick around to chat or pick up a few tips, the storm that was clearly brewing had scared everyone but their new leader off.

As Clara reached beside her to pick up two more arrows she thought back to how far they'd come from when they'd first met her. As she'd expected the transition hadn't been a smooth one, the men continuing to act out and do as they pleased whenever Rodrik wasn't around to watch. Though rather than let her commander think she couldn't handle the new task she'd tried every punishment she could think of to make at least some of them listen. Nearly three weeks back is when they'd finally hit her breaking point, and surprisingly it turned out better than she'd expected. After Rodrik had observed a thankfully well put together display from her and the men he'd praised them all and gone back to his duties, but the archers were far from interested in going back to training. As two men started drawing circles in the dirt, another broke out chalk and started to make what she assumed was a betting board on the wall of the keep. She had protested before she'd given the usual threats of punishment, and eventually she'd resorted to negotiating with them to help her look good in front of Rodrik.

In the end they'd just laughed before the man with the chalk had turned to face her shining an apple on his shirt as he tried to get his way. "Listen sweetheart, we know you mean well, but as a rule I don't let women rule any part of my life. Haven't liked 'em for the past twenty eight years and don't plan on letting you change my mind. When you leave we'll convince the sentinel to put one of us in charge and then we can do as we'd please. Though, if you're so interested in our commander it would be easier to let us have our way and let us get you into his bed." Jeoff would inform before raising that apple he'd been shining and trying to take a bite of it. Clara had of course felt her face turn bright red, but instead of backing down she had taken the only lesson she'd ever learned from her uncle, the stubborn will to get his way, and drawn her bow. Before Jeoff could fully bite down the arrow he'd wanted to enjoy was shot out of his mouth and pinned to one of the targets in the distance by her arrow.

"Listen sweetheart, that's where you're wrong. If I leave this position it's going to be in a pine box or because one of you is better than me and took the position. Considering none of you have the balls to shoot me and only half are sober enough to even see the damned target I think I'm safe from both. If you want me gone so bad, then make it happen. Unless of course you want me to bring Rodrik into this, but I think you already know what he would do if another captain left. Trust me, you don't want to risk having to join the scouts or calvary and going through their training instead" Clara replied, pulling a laugh from Jeoff before he strode over and clapped her on the shoulder. "I was wondering when your temper was going to give. Clearly I underestimated you and your skills with that bow. You've got it… Captain".

As Clara notched the first of the two arrows she'd smirk, remembering the first words her new lieutenant had spoken to her, and how quickly they'd become friends after it; proving to poor Jeoff that not all women were terrible. With only a few more displays even her uncle would have been proud of they'd fallen into line, and with a little more time come to respect her. She did of course let them slip now and then, usually making sure their training right before payday ended early and the drill that followed two days later didn't start until at least noon. So long as they gave her at least two hours of good training and she didn't have any poor reports from anyone else she could afford to give them the leniency. After all, even in the two moon cycles she'd been here their aim had improved so much even the Lord Briar had commented on it when he'd surprised them and turned up to one of she and Rodrik's weekly planning meetings. Waiting for the whistling of the wind to die down again Clara would take her time to line up her shot, being patient and letting the dust settle before releasing the drawstring that held her arrows. This time it was the same "thunk" as before, but moments later it would be followed by a "chink" as if something had hit the wall instead of the straw target. Swearing under her breath and only briefly rubbing at her exposed wrists Clara would set her bow up against the wall behind her and whistle for Pepper to follow as she went to investigate where the second arrow she had fired had gotten to.

While it was unconventional the archer had been experimenting with firing not just one, but two arrows at a time. At first her attempts were just met with bruised wrists and arrows in the dirt but recently she'd been having more and more luck with not just one, but both arrows hitting the target. As she got closer she was shocked to not only find both of her arrows, but to see that the second noise had been the second arrow going right through the target, and lodging itself into the wall behind it. With a proud smile she would just push the two through and stick them back into her quiver before she turned to say something to where she thought her four legged companion should be sitting. "See Pepper? It only took a month" she'd chirp, reaching behind her to scratch the waist high pooch behind the ears, but her hand was greeted with nothing but air. Looking behind her her suspicions were confirmed and the pooch was nowhere to be seen. Whipping around to search the courtyard the wind picked up again just as the archer started to whistle once more. Hearing a whining in response she'd spin to stare at a stack of hay in the corner of their training yard, and started praying she hadn't accidentally hit her with a stray arrow. As Clara felt her heartbeat pick up she would practically rip the quiver from her back and start counting out the arrows, all the time fighting off the cold grip of panic that was closing around her throat. "No.. No not Pepper. What would I do with myself if I did? I'm already so alone, please Mother Rhoyne tell me I didn't miss." She'd plead as she knelt in the dirt counting them all out, and to her great relief they were all there and accounted for.

With a sigh of relief she realized that this was probably just Pepper being her usual goofy self. After gathering all the arrows and putting them away, Clara stand once more and brush off the legs of the pants she normally wore for practice. Even though it was uncommon it was far more comfortable than trying to shoot in a dress, and she could hardly do any melee fighting in a dress. Nobody seemed to mind as long as she wore a dress and pinned up her hair for the rest of her duties. Even Arabel, the ward of the house, had voiced her approval on her wardrobe choices on several occasions. With slow movements she'd head over to the mound of hay and poke her head behind it, being met with the big brown eyes of the two year old dog that never grew out of being a puppy. "What has gotten into you? If it's the storm you don't like, we can go inside now." she'd hush, speaking in Dornish as she reached out rub her cheek. Though before she could get past the word "inside" Pepper was already barking and running back towards the keep.

With a shake of her head she would simply head back to the keep and up to her room so she could get cleaned up and back in a dress, hoping that when she was done her four legged compatriot would have shown her face. Finally as she deemed herself clean and presentable enough for their picky lord she would head back outside to look around once more, this time towards the Maester's hall and stables. Instead of finding her dog, she did see Lady Myria's new husband Carth, all pomp with shoulder length black hair slicked back, his multicolored ribbons trailing behind him, and a gleaming rapier on his hip. Though Clara would never say it aloud, it was her opinion that the man spent more time on his appearance than both Lady Evelyn and Lady Arabel combined. With a quiet sigh she would gather as much courage as she possibly could and approach the man, bowing her head in respect as she got a bit closer. "Um... Ser? Have you seen a dog around here? She's pretty big, and stands about as high as my hip. All white with black spots?"

Feeling Carth's gaze slide over her in an inspection that made her shiver and feel more like a target than a person Clara started to reconsider even approaching. Yet instead of tearing into her the swordsman would yawn and turn his head towards her. "The dog? Oh she's with Emma. You're the new archer captain correct?" He'd ask with a look of interest, but it didn't take the eyes of a hawk to see the slight contempt on his face as he continued, "Flowers. Always with Flowers". Suppressing a bit of a wince at his second comment she'd try and focus on getting the information she needed instead of starting a fight. "Is Lady Emma still under the watch of Mester Jared? Though yes, this Flower is indeed the new archer captain" she'd reply, but the half Tarly could feel her back get a little straighter as she picked up on his tone.

While normally Clara didn't mind people using the surname given to those born in the reach without parents wed under the seven, the way he said it reminded her too much of her Uncle and all the abuse she suffered because her mother had decided to have a bastard child. Then again, maybe Carth's travels abroad had opened his mind to new ideas. Though when the archer's mind turned back to the conversation she could already see his smile turning respectful as he noticed her posture changing. "Indeed, she should be in the medicus. I've heard you're a hell of a shot, Captain…?" he'd trail off, clearly only being aware of her last name and not her first. " Ah, Clara." she'd finish before offering a quick curtsey. "Thank you Sir..." she'd start, but when the fact he had complimented her actually sunk in she would shrug and rub at her arm a bit awkwardly.

The circumstances around her hiring were still shocking to her. She'd come hoping for a job as fletcher at most, perhaps just a chambermaid if nothing else. Yet instead Rodrik had taken one look at her and made her an archer. She'd been incredibly grateful of course, but it had come as more than a shock to her than something she'd planned. Then after she'd stopped those murders from getting away and been thoroughly beaten thanks to suspicion, the commander had shown kindness instead of accusation. Though she had to admit, she still didn't understand the test he had given her. It was a hard shot, but being a good archer doesn't mean you're a good commander. There must have been something else he saw in her that encouraged his choice, something that made him certain Lord Thermos would approve of her as a new captain. Shaking herself free of her own thoughts of why she'd nod in response to his initial question. "I'm fairly good, yes. Ser Rodrik offered up a test to me, it was when I passed that I was given my position. My men claim I'm a better archer than their last captain, but overall I don't know Ser. I'm certain that somewhere in Westeros there are those who are far better a shot than I am, but until they come to House Briar, I suppose I'm good enough for the position", she'd finish, trying to make light of the situation with a half smile.

Before Clara could step away she'd find the swordsman stepping forwards, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her every couple of words. "Don't talk down your talents. The world is murky enough without people lying for the issue of being humble." He'll say with a giant grin before stopping the shaking all together. "I'm proud of my sword play, now you be proud of your archery. I admit I may have been watching the day of the apple incident. I was worried I might have to step in and knock some skulls together, but you handled it better than anyone in this house would have. We need more minds like yours around here, and honestly I think you balance out our commander. You two make a lovely pairing you know, I would say couple but I don't like to assume and honestly he's blind enough to not realize what's in front of him", he'd state matter of factly, causing the archer to turn bright red with embarrassment.

Clara wouldn't lie, she'd noticed their commander was more than easy on the eyes on quite a few occasions. Given her new position she'd had plenty of chances to admire the view without him being any wiser. Though she had come to suspect he realized exactly what his lingering gazes did to her with how often he'd been doing it of late. Yet there was always the matter of the heart. It took more than one heart to encourage a lasting love, and that's all there was at the moment and all there likely ever would be. "I.. I will try Ser." she'd stammer out trying to regain her composure before addressing the rest of what he said and trying to change the subject from her clear infatuation. "My duty is to the house, I gave Ser Rodrik my word and I intend to keep it. I.. I don't think a relationship with anyone would add anything to the house, nor would I act on anything without his approval. Anyways, you are a swordsman?" She'd ask, looking more and more anxious to just go and find her dog and forget about everything he'd said.

Pulling out his rapier, Carth would flick it about over to her left before holding it so she could take it and look over the strange design. "I learned the basics from my father, and I learned much more in Essos. I only came back a month before I wed Lady Myria." he'd inform, but while she was done with the previous conversation he had only just begun. Smirking at her, he'd take his weapon back and place it back in his hilt. "So why, are you so after Rodricks approval?" he'd question, reading her like a children's book. She knew then it was written on her face, and even as she spoke the lie she could see his smirk only growing. As he uncovered the truth of why she went to watch the cavalry training after her men were dismissed, or had taken up swordplay when Rodrik offered to teach her, she fell right back into the nervous stutter she thought she had been rid of. "N-no reason S-ser. He just.. well he proved that a bas- I mean.. a Flowers could be a great fighter, and not be a d-dishonor. He is a great leader and I w-would be a fool not to st-stand by him." Hearing Carth give a patient chuckle at her stammering, her head would hang and she'd push a few unruly curls back behind her ear; another of her nervous habits picked up at Horn Hill. Though most would say her inability to lie was a good thing, it was moments like this she found it a curse. Thankfully before the swordsman could speak much more they'd both hear his name being called from within the keep, meaning she was going to be free. "Child, you're adorable, but just be honest with him. You're both baseborn more or less, and you seem moderately close to his age, so there is nothing stopping your desires but fear", Carth would offer before patting the top of the twenty two year old's head and wandering off.

With a sigh of relief Clara would simply run off towards the interior of the hall, just wanting to find the dog and get back before she had to go to any meetings. As she rounded the corner in the Master's hall she was grateful at least to hear the musical tinkle of Lady Emma's laughter, slowing down at first to hear it just for a while longer. Even given her lack of sight the child never failed to bring a smile to the faces of those around her, and in the time she'd been here Emma had claimed the archer as a new sibling, and had made Pepper one of her closest friends. When finally she approached the door to the medicus she would stop and put her back against the wall to just listen. At the moment she could hear Emma reading from what sounded like a fairy tale with a knight and a princess and the tell tale thump of Pepper's tail hitting the wood of the stand next to the bed. Even though she was smiling as she listened the entire atmosphere hit her with a prang of melancholy. What she wouldn't have given for just one day like this, a younger sister or cousin around to talk to and to laugh about the silliest things with. Her only cousin had been a boy, Jerald, and she was far too afraid of the beating her uncle had given her when she even tried to speak to him to ever try it more than once. House Briar was home to such a large and happy family that they often just adopted more into their ranks, like Arabel for instance. Their Lord Thermos had four children that she knew of, and with the three she'd met she knew their bond was unbreakable. Yet no matter how many times Emma called her sister she knew she'd always be unsure about the unconditional love that Emma professed. Clara simply didn't know how to have a family like this, a family that could make her smile, but the few times she responded to playful teasing with a retort of her own and everyone had laughed in response she dared to believe she might belong.

With one final sigh Clara would tune back into reality and move to turn the corner, however no sooner than she had removed her cheek from the cool stones did she hear the sound that made her heart nearly beat out of her chest, but also the one she most dreaded to hear after that talk in the courtyard. Floating out of the room came the low rumble of her commander's laughter followed by the amusement in his deep tone. "Is that so, little sister, and how many figurines will I have to carve for you before you're appeased? Shall I make the next one Pepper instead of a wolf?" Clara froze in place with a gasp, of all the people in there why did it have to be Rodrik? Of course she knew Emma was his sister, but couldn't he have been giving orders or inspecting something? If she went in there now she would be forced to talk to the commander, and not that it wasn't exactly what she wanted to do, but she knew she would stammer and make a fool of herself if she did. Mother Rhoyne had cursed her not twice, but thrice in sending her to him and now thanks to Carth she was painfully aware of all of them. For starters, Rodrik Flowers was near the most handsome man Clara had ever seen both in and out of his armor, the latter event being incredibly rare, but seeing him relaxed in regular clothing made him all the more attractive. Secondly, he had a natural kindness and humor about him while still giving off an air of authority. You didn't follow his commands because you were afraid of the punishment, though he was certainly more than strong enough to give it. You followed them because you were afraid to let him down and get the disappointed stare, or be the tail end of his jokes for the next few days. While she herself had never been on the receiving end of the piercing violet gaze, she had heard the stories from her men and that was enough for her, as surely to receive it would break her heart. Finally, and perhaps this was the one that hurt the most, Mother Rhoyne had made her follower fall absolutely and totally in love with him over the past month. Paired of course with the knowledge she would never be more than just a bastard and never good enough to do more than receive an order or two from him.

There were times she mused it over, what if it did turn out in her favor? That Rodrik actually came to love her in return and just like the fairy tale, they ended up with their happily ever after. That instead of being forced into marriage with a real lady, he chose for himself and she was the apple of his eye. Before she could let that daydream go any further she was pulled from within her own thoughts by a low growl, and then a bark. As her eyes snapped open she would gasp and try to move backwards in order to avoid detection. However the second that she moved the tides would turn against her and her foot would snag on the hem of her cloak, sending the captain tumbling to the ground with a squeak of panic. Of course as she fell the only thing she could she hear was that same low rumble, "Emma don't move", followed by the grinding of a sword against a sheath as it was drawn. "This is it. This is where I die of embarrassment and Mother Rhoyne makes my second life that of a fish to punish me for such stupid thoughts", she thought to herself as she tried to free herself from the tangle of her much too large cloak and slide her shoe back on her foot at the same time. She didn't bother to pay attention to her cruel fate anymore until she caught the glint of steel below her nose. "Clara? Are you okay?" She'd hear as the glint vanished and she heard the sword being sheathed. As her face kept darkening to deeper and deeper shades of red she would finally free herself from her cloak, and just barely manage a nod as her throat began to close up. "Y-yes Ser. I.. I wasn't eavesdropping! B-but I wanted t-to find Pepper." She'd manage in a voice barely above a whisper. Even the dog in question would have had trouble hearing it had she not followed after Rodrik the second she heard her owner's voice. To make matters worse the offending pup was now licking at Clara's hands as she tried to stand and back up at the same time.

Holding his hand out he would just smile at her and help her up. "Are you sure you are alright? That seemed like it was a rough fall." He would say as he started to brush the dust off as gently as the sentinel could. "You were looking for Pepper right? Well I found her here with Emma. If you want you can come in and meet her if you have not already." He said taking her hand and starting to try to lead her inside, not giving her much of a choice in the matter. "I.. I'm fine Ser, thank you. Also I have met Lady Emma, this is not the first time Pepper has led me to her.. I apologize if she bothered you at a-" is all she would manage before she felt her throat close up the rest of the way. It was so innocent, him taking her hand to lead her, but to her it was just a taunting of everything that she had just been thinking of and she cursed herself inwardly for ever thinking it. All she could do was hope that he got wrapped up in his sister soon and she could have the chance to force air into her lungs and tell herself she was being a fool. However as they drew closer to the bed she could see Emma's round face light up, her left eye still covered by bandages. "Clara! I knew you would come, Pepper always brings you to me. Have you met my brother Rodrik? Tell me, is he just as handsome as he was at the wedding when I could see all of him?" Emma would chirp. Clara knew exactly what the child was doing, in a few of their talks the young woman had guessed her with the Sentinel as Carth had, and now took every available opportunity to try and make her brother guess it too. As the archer's entire face turned to panic she knew there was no getting around this. Like Carth said, she only needed to get over her fear, so she began to speak, "Well m'lady I couldn't say, It was dark and well…" Eventually however she would sigh in defeat and nod. "Yes M'lady. I dare say he is. Perhaps more so now that he sees you smiling." she'd say, staring at the ground and trying to hide her flaming cheeks.

Suddenly Clara would feel another set of eyes on her, but before things turned awkward the large dog would bark, this time at the door where a flushed and rather beat up guard stood out of breath. "Commander, we found him. We found the man who blinded your sister", he'd pant, and within an instant Rodrik was pushing past him on his way out the door. Running on instinct Clara would say something to Pepper in Dornish, by Emma's knowledge something along the lines of stay, before giving girl's hand a squeeze and following after her commander, Emma's sly smile seeing them both out. As the duo made their way to the courtyard Clara felt so out of place, she had changed after practice so her usual leather armor and bow were tucked away in her room. Instead of looking like a captain next to Rodrik in his full plate she looked like her gaudy aunt, some woman who hangs off the arm of a man and pretends to be important. Suddenly the maroon dress and silver fur cloak made her feel like crawling out of her own skin and standing there, not to mention the sleeves were not quite as long as she liked showing off just a sliver of the bruises on her wrist from her lack of wearing bracers. While it was a bad habit of hers, she had picked it up when she'd first started learning archery to remind her that her pain was her way out of her uncle's house.

Staying a bit behind her commander Clara would blink as the guards parted, revealing a blonde man kneeling on the ground, dirt and blood covering his face and his left arm missing from the elbow down. As Rodrik walked up he would lift a hand, slapping the man across the face. "I'm going to give you ten seconds, start explaining." he would growl out, spitting a bit on the man who would simply smirk. "The many faced god will grace me today." is all he would say before a rouge arrow pierced through his throat, leaving the man chuckling as blood gurgled in his throat and mouth. Within the minute he was nothing more than a corpse, blood covering a twisted smile and blank eyes staring up at the sky above. Death had never bothered Clara before, funerals, illness, bodies in the deep parts of the crypt that her uncle locked her in when he didn't feel like beating her, but somehow this was worse. The transition from living to dead, the sound of the blood as it pooled in his throat and he started drowning, and finally the light as it left his eyes, was all too much. It was too different than animals and targets, and as her head started to spin and her stomach lurched the archer would bow to her Commander and run off, though she wasn't even sure if he even noticed as he was too busy shouting at men to find whoever took that shot. Hurrying off the archer would try and keep what little she had had for lunch in her stomach until she could get to her quarters.

After nearly an hour of searching in the storm that had hit Rodrik and his men still couldn't find even a trace of the rogue archer. The arrow was their only clue and it was a different make than all of his men used, even Maester Jared had no idea where it could have came from. As he headed up the stairs to take off his armor and just relax for the rest of the night he would see the corner room next to his had the door shut tight. An unusual sight given that Clara always left the door and the windows open for the breeze that came through. "Good for the health and it smells better than the stone and burning wood." she always claimed. Though Rodrik had never gotten in the habit of it himself he did have to admit her room always had a natural lightness to it, more so than any other. Pausing with his hand on his door knob he would stare at it. When had she even left his side, did she say something and he hadn't noticed? Come to think of it, had she even stepped out into the courtyard with him to see the man? After a moment's thought he would decide that if the door was still shut when he came out for dinner he would see if she was even in there.

Stepping into his own room he would make quick work of taking off his armor and waiting for a servant to dump the last two pitchers of water into the copper tub so he could bathe. Waiting until the door was closed behind him he would strip down and sink into the water. Unlike his brother or even some other men at arms he had no interest in smelling like daffodils or roses, just simple soap was good enough for him. Given time and a solid woman in his life that opinion might change, but that wasn't coming anytime soon no matter how much he wanted it to. Though he had to admit, he was very fond of the jasmine or apple scent that his second in command always had. Though he would never admit it, it might have been one of the reasons he enjoyed having her stand upwind to watch calvary drills atop the wall with him. Then again, he'd thought of a few excuses to have her around during times he would have never normally had a second in command around. Not even a few nights back he'd though up some excuse to have her do reports with him, just so he could watch her in the dim candlelight. "Nothing wrong with keeping your captains close. It promotes trust, and you have to be able to trust her since you don't know anything about archery." he'd assure himself, accepting it was another excuse and deciding to stick with it anyways.

Once he was certain he was clean and the water was starting to draw cold he would step out and quickly dry off before getting dressed in a simple pair of soft leather pants and a white linen shirt, an outfit put together by his adopted sister Arabel. In all honesty everything in his closet that wasn't armor or a uniform was given to him by Arabel, each item containing a small dot along the neckline symbolizing what items matched others to make sure he always looked moderately presentable. Stepping out of his room once more he would immediately look towards Clara's still shut door. Smiling at the voice in his head reminding him that he was just keeping his promise, he'd step forwards lightly tapping on the door with his knuckles. "Clara? Are you in there?" he'd ask, raising his voice just enough to be heard through the door. However after getting no response he would slowly creak the door open, frowning when he saw how dark it was. Once it was opened fully he would notice that the curtains were drawn and even the fire was out, leaving the room almost totally dark save for one lone candle burning on the nightstand. Stepping further into the room he would have to squint to just barely make out the figure of the tiny archer curled up in the corner, an empty bucket pressed to her stomach as she slept. Striding over he would kneel down in front of her taking in just how pale she was, even her lips lacking their usual rosy color. After feeling the chill in the room thanks to the storm and seeing she was already in a nightgown with her cloak lying across her bed, it didn't take a genius to realize she was just cold. As he looked back down at her he realized that never before had she looked so peaceful, and that in his heart he knew that he never wanted to stop looking at her. Could the seven really have been so cruel? To make him fall in love with a woman who would never be interested in him? As he tried to lock away the image in his brain his hand would act on its own and reach out to stroke her cheek. As his thumb made contact with her smooth porcelain skin and disturbed the copper curls resting there he could feel her stirring slightly, but didn't care enough to move. This was likely the only chance he was going to have to be this close to her and he wasn't going to waste it. Much to his surprise as her eyelids only barely opened she would set the empty bucket to the side and move so that her head rested against his chest. "Thats it. I drowned in the bath and this is the stranger's hell for me. Letting me have her so without some sort of payment", Rodrik would think to himself as he stared down at her sleeping frame. As he realized that even if he was dead that this would be his only chance he would lift her into his lap and begin running a hand through her hair, parts of it still damp from what he assumed was a bath. As he stared suddenly she would sigh, and though her eyes were still shut and her frame remained curled up in his arms she began to whisper to him. "I know you're only dream Rodrik, but I am sorry for running away." she would hush, her lips turning into a frown that he realized he would do anything to see vanish. "Why did you run?" he'd ask as he absentmindedly trailed his fingers down across her jawline. "Because the man dying like that.. It made me ill. I was afraid you'd see, and I'm so sorry Rodrik." she'd say, her voice cracking every few words. With a frown he realized it must have been the first time she had ever been that close to someone dying, and while he felt a pang of stupidity for not asking before he hired her, there was something that stole his attention away. He realized it was also the first time she hadn't called him commander, and the sound of his name on her lips just felt right somehow. Feeling a jolt of emotion he knew he needed to comfort her in any way he could. "Clara it's alright.. It happens to everyone their first time. I didn't even make it off the battlefield before I broke down and that was just over a stupid horse. It will pass with time, though I hope you never have to see it again", he'd reassure before burying his face against her damnably soft hair and holding her tight. As they sat there his heart was being torn apart by two ends. One that wanted to give itself to this amazing woman that he had wanted from the very first moment he saw her, but the other half was trying to lock itself away, believing that even though she was a bastard and a warrior herself he was only being selfish again. That even if he could promise he'd never leave her, she would never look at him in the same way he looked at her. Seven hells, it took her being asleep before she could even speak to him without that charming stutter of hers. With a sigh he would bring her in closer and stand, holding her in his arms in a bridal carry. "At least I got this. It's more than I could have asked for." he'd think to himself as he set her down on her bed and pulled the blankets over her, thankfully leaving her still sound asleep. Stroking her cheek lightly he would take in that one final look to burn into his memory. "Sleep well, Clara", he'd whisper as he painstakingly drew his hand away and turned to leave her room. As he stepped into the hall he would run into one of the maids coming from Evelyn's room. After instructing her to light a fire in the archer's room and to see to it she was not disturbed, the sentinel would head down to dinner, his heart lighter than it had ever been and the feel of her burned into his chest for the rest of the night.


	4. Chapter 4: A New Beginning

Out in the air of the courtyard of Rose Hall, tiny bubbles of soap could be seen floating up into the sky from beside the stables. Despite the weather that grew colder every day there in the dust sat Lady Emma, Clara Flowers, and a giant tub filled with water and bubbles. Right in the middle of which sat a soaking wet Pepper biting at the air as the bubbles floated up. From over his shoulder, the Stable Master, Karamore, could hear Lady Emma giggling as she kept getting a face full of wet fur. In truth it was nice to see the two getting along so well, the captain did not care for Lady Emma's new deformity or that she was only fourteen and Lady Emma never once gave thought to Clara's birth. It was if two long lost sisters had found one another just through a silly dog. The stable master would smile fondly over at the two, perhaps lingering a bit too long on the archer for comfort to anyone watching, and then turn back to the horses. As he brushed out one of the mules he could hear the shouts and running of men that were still being assembled. The man hunt for the person who had orchestrated the heist that crippled Lady Emma was still underway and showed no signs of stopping until the person was either in a cell or dead. Lord Thermos thought the man behind it all had simply escaped and was not a threat anymore. Rodrik on the other hand believed that the person was still at large in the surrounding area, and so with his cries of justice he roused the soldiers into a fury rarely seen in them. Patting the mule down he'd start walking back towards the back of the storage shed. As he slipped safely between the stables and the wall he couldn't help but smirk at how well it had played out; if only they knew just how close the man they were looking for chose to hide.

Rodrik had been nervously pacing on top of the gates of the house for what seemed like hours as he waited for any kind of news on the bastard who had crippled his dear sister. They believed they had apprehended both of the men who had carried out the task, but thanks to the seconds untimely death and the first resisting their interrogations they had no idea who had actually hired them. Slowly shaking his head he leaned back against the front of the rampart, rubbing his temples as he tried to sort through everything. He could understand why someone might want to injure Emma, it would only raise tensions between the Briars and the Ravenholts and could potentially restart the war between them. What he didn't understand, was the cryptic message one gave before he was silenced. Who was the many faced god, and what did he have to do with anything? He could only assume it was some up and coming faction in Essos, but to subscribe to that idea meant he only had more unanswered questions, and he could barely keep his thoughts on his tasks as it was.

As much as he hated sitting at the gates this round of boredom did serve a purpose. If any of his riders came back with news they could report directly to him instead of having to find him or go up the chain of command. Then there was the more important reason, and the one he was most dreading. When Emma had been blinded it had brought all of the Briar children save one back under the same roof. Until of course Thermos decided to send word to have that last missing piece come home. Whether it was a desire to have all of his pawns neatly arranged on his chess board again, or more Thermos testing his oldest son's word Rodrik would never know. Whichever the case may be one thing was certain and the idea of it thrilled the sentinel. Warren Briar, heir to Rose Hall and the oldest of the legitimate children of Thermos, was returning from his four year trip to Essos.

Rodrik had only been four when Warren was born, and his birth coincided with the first anniversary of the now Sentinel's arrival to his father's house. After the death of his mother and of Myria's first husband she brought the boy back to her brother's house with her, figuring he was better off with his father than he would have been in an orphanage. Though when Warren was born the situation ended up better than anyone could have hoped. The lord's first wife Helena had possessed one of the kindest hearts anyone had ever seen, and despite Rodrik being her husband's bastard she took him in as her own son. For those short ten years Rodrik had not one, but two mothers, in Myria and Helena. He remembered each of the two births after that and how special Helena had made him feel when she insisted he be the best big brother again. When Evelyn was born two years later she'd made sure Rodrik knew he had to teach Warren how to be a good sibling, and for the most part it had worked. For the next four years Rodrik and Warren became as thick as thieves, and on the fourth year when Helena announced she was expecting again both of them geared up to become the best big brothers they could to the child that would come, but little did they know how much Emma would change all of their lives.

It was then that Emma's peals of laughter caught his attention, and Rodrik couldn't help but wonder what could have her so happy all of a sudden. Pushing up from his post against the front of the ramparts atop the wall he'd turn, and start scanning the courtyard until at last he saw Pepper running about the courtyard with Emma tossing a stick about for her to chase. As he kept switching his gaze between the duo he was both unable to keep the smile from his face and unable to hear the light footsteps that snuck up behind him. Just as his inner child was about to win and he was about to go down and join in the game of fetch he'd hear a voice just over his shoulder. "You know I've been trying to get that dumb dog to fetch arrows for two years now. Do you think she ever listened to me? All I ever got was a bark or a snore", a voice he recognized to be Clara would hush just behind him.

With a chuckle the Sentinel would pat the stones next to him, beckoning his second in command forwards to talk with him. "Emma has always been good with animals, it was something she inherited from her mother so don't take Pepper's treason personally. Besides, we could always train one of the scouts to retrieve your arrows", he'd tease before sparing a glance over her way. Every time he looked at Clara part of him swore she only got more beautiful by the day, and didn't bother to switch his gaze back to the duo playing below them. Unlike usual today she didn't bother with her armor, instead wearing a plain light blue dress with the sleeves replaced by a halter that was secured by a silver necklace. When he noticed her hair tied up into a bun atop her head he had to resist the urge to reach out and free a few loose curls from behind her ear and instead focus on her response. "That's alright, I was starting to think it was time to pass Pepper on to Emma's ownership anyways. I wonder if I could train a sentinel to chase arrows for me as well", she'd retort before turning to look up at him.

Unable to hold back his laughter or keep his hand still any longer he'd reach out as he spoke, and make sure those few trapped curls were unleashed in the process. "Mmm.. I think sentinels can be trained, but it might take a lot more effort. My question is why would you ever want one when you could have so mu- What happened to your arms?" he'd ask suddenly when his gaze drifted down to her almost completely black and blue inner arms. Almost as soon as the question was out of his mouth Clara was backing off, using her hands to cover her arms and starting up with an explanation, that charming stammer of hers slipping in every so often. "Oh.. Its nothing. Really nothing of c-concern. I uh.. I j-just misplaced my bracers." she'd mutter, but in one swift motion Rodrik had grabbed hold of her wrist and tugged her in closer.

As a blush crept over Clara's cheeks he almost felt bad for embarrassing her, but before Rodrik could take pity on his shy little captain, all of his selfish ways had taken over and he would lean down to whisper in her ear. "Misplaced them, Captain? That's a shame. Perhaps I'll stop by your quarters later and help you look for them. Then perhaps we can go over plans for our annual trip to Dorne in a few months without prying ears", he'd hush almost missing the sound of hoofbeats approaching the front of the gate over the spell her stormy grey eyes had him under.

It was the shouts of "Commander" that brought Rodrik from his brief daydream, but he didn't relinquish his grip on his second in command yet. Instead he found himself letting his fingers trail down over her wrists before he'd took Clara's hand within his much larger one, and gently lead the way back down to in front of the gates. "You found them?" He would ask as the men rode up to the gate, their horses darkened with sweat and quiet save for their heavy breaths.

After a few more moments of silence the Sentinel would once again speak up, this time his voice thunderous as he practically growled the words. "If one of you doesn't speak up I'm doubling tomorrow's training time." Instantly the men began to dismount from their horses and kneel in front of their commander and his second. "No my lord we double checked the paths we traveled yesterday on top of the new areas. It is as if all trace of the one who wounded Lady Emma has disappeared as if they were a ghost. Though you should know...". Whatever else the man said was drowned out by Rodrik's shout of rage as he threw up his hands, and Clara's left hand, in frustration as he took up post with his back against the gate once more.

"All of you go get some rest you've earned it. I'll tell him the other part when he's done brooding", he'd hear Clara announce. Not even noticing the men bow and leave he would continue to rub at his temples with his free hand. "Brooding am I, Captain?" he'd growl, but deep down Rodrik knew she was right. It was even something she confirmed when again she spoke, "You think too much like me to get away with it. You blame yourself for Emma losing her eye, and finding this man would be your repentance. It's just too bad you're the only one that thinks so". Huffing he'd finally look back up at Clara, spotting what he could have sworn was a smug smile starting to form. It wasn't the first time she had read him like an open book, and he doubted with how similar they were it would be the last.

Yet even so he was half tempted to put her back in her place for that remark, but there was some part of him that loved seeing her be so assertive with him, and he was tempted to see if he could replicate it without her blushing. Before he got the chance she was moving again, repositioning to lean on the wall next to him with her shoulder brushing against his arm. "They said they ran into a courier while searching. He reported Warren should be here very shortly. Is there anything I should know about your brother before then?" Clara would ask, and just like that Rodrik was back to his trip down memory lane, but this time he actually bothered to narrate it so Clara didn't have to sit a bored silence.

"Warren's mother was very dear to all of us, and when she died giving birth to Emma none of us were the same for a long time. I don't think Thermos ever recovered from it actually. After Helena died he took up drinking and his already bad temper only got worse. He manipulated us where he saw fit and when we didn't comply he'd strike where he knew it would hurt us the most. Warren was different from us all in that his father couldn't ever get leverage against him as he was the only male heir Thermos had. In a way I respected him for it because I knew it was something I'd never get to do, say no to Thermos." he'd explain, pausing to look down when he felt her hand tighten around his, the first acknowledgment that she knew about the contact.

Encouraged to continue, Rodrik would slowly run his thumb across the back of Clara's, and carry on with the need to know information. "Anyways when the Paramounts stepped in to solve the situation between the Ravenholts and the Briars they suggested a ward exchange, and most everyone figured it would be me to go. When Thermos selected Emma instead everybody was outraged, but nobody more than Warren. He swore to his father that if went through with it he would leave the house until Emma came home for good. Sure enough, the day the papers were signed Warren and his best friend Dorian Tyrell, the youngest of his brothers, both ran off and joined a mercenary company in Essos. Nobody has seen either of them in four years, and it is thanks to the excitement of their son coming home the Tyrells haven't encouraged us to send Emma back. To be honest I'm just as nervous as you are, Clara. We were once so close you would have thought us joined at the hip, but I hadn't received a single letter from him before he wrote agreeing to return" he'd finish, looking to Clara for answers but her gaze had shifted to the top of the hill a mile away from the gates.

As he started to slowly turn his head in that direction he was almost dreading seeing the lone chestnut mare riding up to the gates and the rider in the black cloak sitting atop it. What would he even say to Warren after so long? As the man drew closer and closer he'd feel Clara's hand slip from his own, and see her walk out a few paces in front of the gates. As she waited for lose last few moments Clara would move to grip her wrist behind her back, standing still with her head held high. Rodrik knew he should have followed her, but he wanted to see how well she'd handle this, and he couldn't presently force his feet to move past the outer gate. He was stuck fast as the cloaked man stopped a few feet from his captain and dismounted, his breath catching in his throat when the hood was removed and he could finally take in the face he'd been wondering if he'd ever see again.

Standing not even a foot from Clara was a man who looked so similar to the faces she already knew, she knew his name before he even spoke it. Offering a quick bow of her head she'd skim over his outfit for obvious weapons out of instinct before she remembered there was no use to it. When Clara stood straight again, she was pleased to find out he shared the same round pixie like face and blue eyes that Emma and Evelyn sported, but missed out on their chestnut colored hair, and instead wore his dark blonde hair up into a bun as she had done with her own hair. Though no matter how much he resembled his other two siblings, the only thing about him that could be compared to Rodrik was his height and the build that naturally came with training. Which lead her to wonder just who Rodrik's mother had been to grant him such unique characteristics.

Before she could travel too far with that line of thinking she'd realize that Rodrik wasn't standing right beside her to welcome him, and a silence had just started between them all. In a panic she would clear her throat, and try to remember exactly what her uncle usually did. "Ser Warren, we welcome you back to House Briar. I'm the captain of the archery division and the second in command just under Ser Rodrik. Your room has been readied once more and Lady Emma informed me she would wait for you there. However your father requested you see him at your earliest convenience. Was there anything you needed from me before then, Ser?" she'd ask, hoping she did most of that right.

To her surprise Clara was not met with a simple nod or a dismissal, but instead saw Warren flash her a smile that could have made most women swoon. "If my father wouldn't chew me out for ignoring him, I'd tell you that I needed a long night with a few bottles of wine. Then again, with the way your blushing it might take more convincing than just a little wine." a voice smoother than honey tease, and to Clara's horror she could in fact feel her cheeks getting hot. Just as she was about to stammer her way through some excuse she'd feel a hand come to rest between her shoulders, and thankfully a deeper voice responded for her.

"You've been gone for four years and your first order of business is to seduce my captain? Were there no women in Essos?" Rodrik would chide, though thankfully it only seemed to make Warren laugh. "Of course there were, but I don't remember any of them looking like that or being good enough with a bow to impress you into giving them a position in your chain of command." Warren would return, winking at Clara before walking forwards and clapping his older brother on the shoulder. "It's good to be home, Rodrik. How have things gone since I left? I heard of Lorgan's passing during Aunt Myria's wedding. I'm sorry I couldn't make it back in time for the funeral", Warren hushed, his voice taking on the same twinges of pain Rodrik's had when the death of their Master at Arms was still fresh in everyone's mind.

Though Clara hadn't known the man personally she had heard enough about him in the stories they told during dinner to know he'd been a father to them all where Thermos hadn't been. In a way she understood their connection as she'd had her own misfit family help raise her when her Uncle turned sour, but she wouldn't claim to know the pain of losing a parent. As the duo continued to speak about everything the other had missed over the years, she'd excuse herself to take Warren's horse to the stables and inform Lord Thermos of his son's arrival. Before she could get more than a few steps away with the destrier she'd feel a hand on her arm again, and look up just to see Warren smiling at her again. "You can have Karamore put her in with your horse, I'm sure like their riders they'll get along just fine." he'd chime. Though all she would give in return before she walked off was a coy smile and a quickly replied, "It is a shame I don't have a horse. Your mare will have to spend the night alone".

Leaving both men laughing and picking up on where they left off she'd head towards the stables to do as she was told. Though as she handed off the mare to one of the stable boys she'd turn back to look at the duo she had left behind, both of them laughing as they started an impromptu wrestling match near the gates. Mere months ago she was certain the sight of two grown men rolling in the dirt and trying to grapple one another would have given her a heart attack, but now it was simply another part of her life. After all they weren't really hurting anyone and it was nice to see everyone smiling and laughing. The only time she'd ever been truly opposed to the random athletics contests was the one time Rodrik had roped her into a spar with him, and she'd had to show that without a sword or a bow she was completely useless. Then again him holding her back by simply placing a hand on her forehead was pretty funny.

Shaking her head Clara would turn from the view with a smile and start heading back towards the keep so she could talk to their Lord. She'd already decided that she'd leave out the bout of flirting from the report, just sticking to the bare minimum to save face. Besides, the archer was certain Warren would change his tune the minute he found out she was a Flowers. Though if push came to shove she assumed Emma would step up and inform poor Warren of who she wanted Clara to end up with. Not that Clara minded Emma having already decided that she would be her sister in law, but she assumed that even with all of his teasing Rodrik might have a few things to say about it.

Reminding herself she didn't have time for anything trivial at the moment she'd pick up her pace and hurry through the halls to get to the Lord's office. However just as she was about to knock on the door she'd hear shouting, and suddenly the door would swing open in front of her. Standing before her was just the man she wanted to see, but she would have given anything not to see him like this. As her eyes settled in on the man the first thing she noticed was the pommel of a dagger sticking out of his throat just below his adam's apple, and the trail of blood that leaked down his neck. As all the blood rush from her face she could still hear the commotion behind the man, and as she looked over his shoulder she could see Evelyn laying over the desk while Carth was engaged in a swordfight with a man who looked strikingly similar to Arabel.

Forcing her limbs into action Clara would start to move, only to be stopped by Thermos suddenly collapsing and falling against her. As the blood began to ooze onto her, she struggled to keep her resolve and her lunch. With his weight suddenly falling on her, all she could do was catch him, trying to keep him upright as she watched the unthinkable play out in front of her. The blonde attacker suddenly jumped to the side just as Carth lunged forwards with his rapier, and time slowed just enough for her to see the attacker's sword leave a clean cut along Carth's chest. Without realizing what she was doing, her mind ripped control of her vocal cords away from the icy cold fear that held them still. "Rodrik!" she'd scream out as loud as she was convinced she possibly could, but to her horror the attacker only turned to stare at the unarmed woman holding a corpse. With another prang of fear Clara realized she was the only thing standing between him and freedom.

As she saw him rush towards the door she made the only choice she could think of, and that was to reach up and tear the dagger free of Thermos. As her Lord's body dropped to the floor she stood holding that bloody dagger and waiting for her chance. The initial impact of the blonde man's body against her own was hardly noticeable when compared to the sting of his sword jabbing into her arm. Though no matter how badly she wanted to jump away, she knew this pain was the only reason her plan was going to work. Sucking in a deep breath to give her the strength to go through with this Clara would wait until he was ramming into her to raise the dagger, and use his own momentum to dive the short blade between his lower ribs. It did not stop him from slamming her back into the cold stone walls of the house, but as she heard the thundering of feet running through the halls she was content with the knowledge that justice would catch up with him soon.

Sure enough, the moment the man reached the stairs leading up into their bedrooms Rodrik and Warren came running down the hall with swords drawn. She could see the horror on their faces as they passed the woman coated in blood, but neither could afford to stop the chase now. Once they had rushed past Clara moved forwards once again, stepping over the body of Thermos in order to get to Carth, who was just now getting back to his feet. "Captain his blade was poisoned. I fear I am unable to carry my dearest niece alone. You will aid me in getting her to the Maester", Carth announced, swaying as he stood and moved towards the desk and the unresponsive Evelyn.

In truth the fact he was so easily able to shrug off whatever poison had been used was more than a little impressive. Considering even the secondary dose Clara had gotten when he'd stabbed her arm was making her feel a bit dizzy already, she had to wonder if Carth had tested his own luck a few times before now. Without an argument she almost effortlessly lifted her half of the teen, and with some careful maneuvering and a few shouts to move faster they managed to relocate Evelyn into the Maester's tower. It wasn't until they laid her on one of the tables that Clara realized just how bad the injury was, the hole in her side from where she was stabbed leaving nothing of what innards might look like to the imagination. As Clara's stomach began to twist and turn from just the sight of the wound Carth and Maester Jared would step forwards at the same time, both of them worrying and fussing over the wound. "I'm going to go fetch the body and start maids on the clean up and preparations", Clara would announce, receiving only a wave from Carth before she turned and slipped out the door.

The walk through the courtyard was not the moment of silence she had wished for, instead it was full of guards rushing about and the shouts of men from somewhere high above her. "Calvary to your horses! Run that man down! I will not have him escape", a voice that sounded to be Warren's would shout. Though before she even made it a few steps out of the Maester's tower she was surrounded by archers. The most notable was her lieutenant Jeoff who needed to be assured she was indeed going to survive before settling down enough to listen to her orders about pairing off with members of the cavalry and riding together so they could take shots at range. Even once a squad of her archers had hurried off towards the stables she was still surrounded by people, but this time they were the faces of servants and maids. In truth they were the people she was most comfortable speaking with since it had been the ones at Horn Hill who had raised her, but having to order them around like a lady would while in her state was more than a little disorienting. With more than a little effort on her part she managed to sound moderately sure of herself when ordering a group of them to begin building a pyre, and ensuring another group would instruct the chefs to hold off on the feast and instead prepare something that could last through all hours of the night. With that she'd make sure the rest intended to follow after her to clean up the mess of blood that coated the Lord's office.

As they made their way down the cold stone halls again Clara began to dread the idea of seeing the room once again, and hated the fact she was going to have to carry the corpse back to the Maester and end up coating herself in more blood. Just as her stomach was about to give more people requested orders and it gave her a moment to compose herself before going any further. Though as they entered the study once more she realized just how bad it had been, and her eyes struggled to see a single piece of furniture that hadn't been moved about in the scuffle. The only thing she as sure was exactly where she left it was Thermos. As servants set about their tasks around her she'd swallow her fear and pick up their late lord, but as his body shifted and more blood ran out of his neck and onto her she felt another wave of nausea hit. Forcing herself to try and focus her brain on other things, she'd start moving back towards the tower, but with every corner she turned or door she went through the dizziness only got worse.

By the time Clara reached the table in the back of the infirmary she very nearly dropped Thermos, and only barely got him on the table before she collapsed into a nearby chair and closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to watch the world spin around her. As the voices warped and echoed around her she found it hard to focus on any of them and get a decent bit of information. Just as she was about to give up she'd feel cool fingers brush over her burning skin and manage to open her eyes just enough to see Arabel cleaning and bandaging the wound on her arm. "Evelyn.. How is she?", Clara asked as she finally managed to keep the world from spinning around her. "She'll be just fine. Jaered tended to the wound while I identified the poison. It's just sweet sleep, which is great news for you and Carth" Arabel would chime before gesturing over to the snoring swordsman in the corner. "Clara… Is it true the killer was my brother?" Arabel would inquire, her green eyes filled with pain as they looked up at her. With a heavy sigh, the archer would only shrug. "I honestly can't say. I thought he looked very much like you when I first saw him, but I've never met him to be certain." she'd reply, wincing as the bandage was tightened and Arabel's sorrowful face only fell further. "You should head upstairs. I had servants draw a bath for you and lay out a mourning outfit." the herbalist would instruct with her normally musical voice now flat and lifeless, and before Clara could reassure her that Arabel was still family to everyone else she was running back towards Evelyn's side.

With a sigh Clara would stand from her seat, swaying as she regained her balance and tried to focus on steadying the world around her. The day wasn't even half over and the pile of things she still wanted to do for the house was overwhelming. Not that anybody would have asked her to complete most of the tasks, but in the chaos that was going on she knew the gesture would be appreciated. It took a concerted effort to climb the stairs without falling back down them again, but she realized it was all worth it when at last she sunk into the tub of hot water and let her mind go blank.

After spending the rest of the day in the in search of yet another escaped assassin, Rodrik was starting to consider just giving up. No matter how hard they looked, what precautions he put in place, how trained his men were, the only thing that came was him being out maneuvered by assassins. Annoyingly the moment they had finally found Roland Ravenholt's tracks leading away from their house, they'd been so close to the Dornish border that they ran the risk of an attack simply by being there. Left with no option but to return to the house, they'd spent the better part of an hour ordering men into position, but now they were alone with the promise Jared would be up soon. As he growled out his frustrations in the top room of the maester's tower, Warrengave the last few men orders for new stations. "Didn't think I'd be the Lord of the house until I was thirty", Warren joked once everyone else had left. In response Rodrik spun about to start venting his frustration on his younger brother, but was stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the pain plastered on his face. "Nobody did, but here we are with another death and nothing to show for it. The Stranger keeps getting his way and there's not a single thing The Warrior can do to stop him." Rodrik would reply, moving over to set a hand on Warren's shoulder. For what felt like ages they stayed perfectly still and let the silence envelop them until at long last Maester Jared stepped through the doors.

Both men stood to attention at once, uncertain eyes pleading with the old man for a hint of guidance. As Jared moved across the room and took a spot at his desk he'd breathe out a sigh and pour himself a glass of wine. "I suppose you want a status report?" he'd ask, pausing only to let the two boys relocate and take seats in front of the desk. "Thanks to a dagger in his throat Thermos died before anyone could be alerted, but Evelyn, Carth, and Clara all suffered wounds from the ensuing fight. Evelyn was the worst off, but she's doing fine and sleeping it off in her room. Carth and Clara both had to deal with a poison known as sweet sleep, but the minimal doses they received mean both will be just fine. Other than your normal duties I have nothing left for either of you", he'd announce before lifting the goblet and downing it all in one gulp. Sharing a glance between them they assumed the old man had simply forgotten there was more to a death than just a report. "I wish it was that easy, but I've got a huge list. I'm going to need to write to the Tyrells so they can crown me lord, there have to be war meetings, a funeral planned, and a feast arranged for when I take control", Warren would start to explain. Before he was halfway through his list Jared would hold up a hand and cut in, "Captain Flowers already handled most of the things you're about to say. The feast we had planned for tomorrow was moved to four days from now, pyres are are being built as we speak, the letter to the Tyrells has been written and waits only for me to send it, and the captains of all divisions have been informed of the meeting tomorrow after breakfast. Now you two should head to bed, and get ready for tomorrow".

With sighs of relief, both men stood from their chairs and with a few parting words began the trip back to the main hall and their rooms on the top floor. Though Rodrik thought they'd make the trip in silence Warren surprised him when he asked, "Who is Captain Flowers? We should honor him in some way". With a snort Rodrik would elbow his side, "-She-is my archer captain that you insisted on flirting with. It didn't dawn on you to ask her family name?" he'd tease as they stepped out into the night. "I was more focused on some of her better assets to bother. I simply figured her name would be Briar one day and left it at that." Warren would retort, prompting a glare from the Sentinel. "Though based on the look you're giving me I'm starting to think she might be more than just your captain." he'd finish with a smirk crossing his features. With Rodrik turning red his brother would simply laugh, "I thought that might be the case. Why haven't you gone after her yet? Is there some horrible secret about her I don't know that's stopping you from admitting you want to do more than spar with her?"

Breathing out a sigh Rodrik would stop them in front of the doors to the keep, shaking his head before he tried to explain just what stopped him. "If anything it is the opposite, she's too perfect for me. She's almost as kind as Helena was, funny, smart, a hell of a shot, and damn near the most beautiful woman I've ever met. Why would she ever want someone like me? She should be marrying a damn Paramount not the bastard son of a reach house who is going to leave her a widow too early." he'd admit. Though as he began to turn and enter the hall it was Warren's turn to stop him. "You think Thermos was even a tiny bit worthy of Helena? None of that matters when it comes to love, Rodrik. What if she loved you in return? Can you imagine how badly it would hurt if all you keep doing is pushing her away and that was true? If you don't want to confess, then start by courting her and see where it goes. I'll write to Dorian and tell him to bring a destrier with him when he comes in four days. After that it is up to you to take her riding and get the ball rolling. Otherwise someone far worse than just your brother will come along and steal her out from under your nose." he'd warn before patting the Sentinel's shoulder and vanishing into the keep.

For a long time he was frozen solid, staring up at the star filled sky overhead. He was right of course, just as Lorgan had been when he'd scolded him just before his death. There couldn't be anymore holding back, he knew that now. With a renewed ambition he'd take the stairs two at a time, eager to reach Clara and give her the thanks she deserved. As he drew closer to Clara's room he could hear her speaking in what sounded like Dornish, but there was never any reply. When he turned the corner to push open her door he could see his archer curled up in the bay window with a book, Emma sleeping soundly against her chest. With his heart melting he would step quietly into his own room and take off his armor, setting each piece on the stand before moving back across the hall. From his open doorway he could still hear Clara's quiet reading and with near silent footsteps he would try to sneak into her room, only to remember the squeaky board half a second too late. Hearing her voice cut off he would wince and rush forwards. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to interrupt you. I was just going to check on Emma. Let me take her back to her room, but please don't move I'll be back to speak with you in a moment." he'd hush before gathering the girl in his arms and taking her to her own room. Thankfully he managed to leave her sound asleep and had her tucked in to bed in no time. When finally he returned to Clara's room she was busy snuffing out candles and gathering her blanket to put back on her bed. Leaving his inhibitions at the door he'd walk right up to her, and in one quick movement he would pull her into a hug with one hand lacing through her hair. "Thank you for everything. For taking care of the funeral and the feast, for helping Emma, for setting up the guard; just thank you." he'd murmur against her ear. Eventually he would feel her arms wrap around him in return and feel her head come to rest over his heart. "You don't have to do it all alone you know." she'd hush back, her voice quiet even given their closeness. For what felt like hours to him they would stand in their embrace before he would hug her tighter. "Please come with me tomorrow, I don't think I can stand there alone." he'd beg, and when he felt her nod he would sigh in relief. Before he knew what he was doing or could stop himself he would find himself kissing her hair and wishing her a good night. It wasn't until he was in bed and half asleep that he realized his mistake, and then he was cursing himself for not seeing her reaction to what had to have been his bravest moment all year.

After the four days Warryn was named the new lord and just as promised Dorian had brought along an extra horse. Now all that was left was for Rodrik to keep up his end of the bargain. In less than a month's time he would lead his men off on the yearly patrol of the borderlands and the passes that led from their land into Dorne. Knowing he would be spending more and more time with her planning and drilling, he estimated this may be his last chance to actually spend meaningful time with Clara. Knowing her archers had already been released for the day, he was hoping to catch her just as she was about to leave her room and go observe the scouts. Rushing up the stairs he made it to her room in record time and before he could urge himself to slow down he was knocking on her door. Thankfully it took her more a moment to answer, giving himself time to straighten himself out and to run a hand through his hair. Though even with the time he had to prepare he still found himself speechless when Clara answered the door in a light green dress that hung just off her shoulders. Thankfully he was granted a few extra moments to consider what he would say when she flashed him a smile and stole the first words.

"Hello Ser Rodrik, did you need me? I was about to go make sure the scouts were actually getting things done." she'd chirp. After taking a moment to return her smile he'd simply hold up the scrap of fabric he'd brought with him and give her an ultimatum. "The only thing I need from you is for you to put this blindfold on and follow me. Either that or I lift the prank ban I put on the scouts". Taking her laughter as acceptance he'd make quick work of tying the cloth over her eyes, and ever so carefully lead her through the hall and out towards the stables were his gift awaited her new rider. As he looked over the tall white destrier he wished he'd had time to have a stable boy plait the creatures light grey mane just to add to the appearance, but he was certain she'd love her anyways. Stopping Clara a few meters from the stables, he'd hold out her hands and set a few sugar cubes in her palm before instructing her to hold perfectly still. With his heart pounding in his chest he'd take the rope attached to her halter and gently lead the creature over to her new owner, praying their first meeting went well.

To his absolute joy the mare quite happily accepted the sugar cubes from the archer's outstretched palm, and then stepped forwards to rub her cheek against Clara's head. With a squeal of laughter Clara pulled the blindfold off of her head, both of her hands moving up to rub the mare's neck. "Do you like her?" Rodrik asked, unable to keep himself quiet any longer. "Like her?" Clara questioned, her face lighting up as she ran her fingers through the horse's mane. "I love her! She's beautiful, Rodrik, but is this Warren's 'welcome to being a Lord' gift?" she'd ask, now turning her head to look up at her commander. Forcing himself to keep a similar smile from his face he'd shake his head and reach for her hand once more, setting the rope into her palm as he spoke. "Not quite, she's yours Clara. Though I took the liberty of naming her for you, I hope you don't mind." he'd announce, almost instantly being wrapped in a hug by his captain. With a breathy chuckle he squeezed her tight, listening to her say thank you with every other word. As he waved over a stable hand to take the mare to be saddled for an afternoon ride, he'd stop her mid sentence with a finger to her lips. "Don't thank me yet, you haven't heard her name." he'd remind, smirking as he saw confusion flash across Clara's face. "What did you name her?" she'd ask as they watched the mare be lead back to the tack room. "Salt", he'd get out before he felt the swift retribution of a light punch to his shoulder and was rewarded with her fit of laughter.


End file.
